


Sympathetic

by tanyart



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Phantom pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 19:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for chapter 49.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sympathetic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [djsoliloquy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/djsoliloquy/gifts).



Levi wakes to the sound of bedsheets rustling and the harsh breathing of nightmares and pain.  His ankle has stopped giving him trouble so he knows the noises are not his own.  He turns his head and finds Erwin on his back, staring up at the ceiling.  The bottle of laudanum on the bedside table is empty; sometime in the night Erwin had taken it, if only to get some sleep.

But he is awake again, and Levi watches him carefully.  Sensing movement, Erwin’s gaze to shifts, clear and bright despite the drug.  The unspoken question is not ‘ _are you in pain’_ , because it is obvious that Erwin is, but ‘ _is there anything that will help’_ , and Levi waits for an answer.

It takes a moment, and in that second Erwin’s eyes stare back at the ceiling.  He frowns, mouth open as if he could simply breathe out the pain.  For all his secrecy and tendency to hide his thoughts, Levi knows what must be running in Erwin’s mind.

It seems like the most basic observation, the simplest concept to understand.  It must have hurt Erwin’s pride the most –not the need for laudanum or Levi at his side—but for all his brilliance and mental fortitude, his mind and body cannot seem to grasp that he no longer has a right arm.  There is pain deep down where it shouldn’t be, a hundred other hurts on his body but yet the sharpest pain comes from a limb that isn’t there.

When Erwin speaks his voice is strange and slurred.  He does not look at Levi.

“You’re sleeping on it,” he says.  The confession makes his jaw clench, the words running together with an undercurrent of frustration rather than embarrassment.

They have seen other soldiers before, ones with missing legs and arms, who move as if to reach out and jerk back in surprise when nothing happens.  The idea is not new to them, and the doctors have expressed as much, but to see Erwin fall to the same phantom pain like any ordinary man is an unexpected reminder, not unlike a sprained ankle to humanity’s strongest soldier.

“I see.”  Levi sits up on his arms.

Erwin remains motionless, only closing his eyes.  His next breath comes out in a hiss and he shakes his head.  His left hand presses against his forehead.

Neither of them are men of fantasies, but Levi knows Erwin hates to fall prey to fanciful dreams, rose-tinted glasses or, worst of all, willful ignorance.  He is the commander of the survey corps after all, seeker of truths and knowledge, no matter how grim or cruel.  He cannot simply  _ignore_  his missing right arm, or pretend that he can feel it.

Yet, it is not condescending or indulging when Levi asks, “Am I still on it?”

A weak laugh of disbelief escapes Erwin.  “I can’t  _move_  it.”

Levi gazes down at Erwin’s shoulder, the angle of the residual limb, and it is easy for him to imagine how the rest of Erwin’s arm would have lain over his pillow, where Levi would have fallen asleep over it and cut off the circulation of blood and wake Erwin up. 

Levi places his hand over Erwin’s right arm, over air and empty space.

He knows the exact weight and length of Erwin’s arm, where to cup his hand beneath the elbow to lift it like so.  It isn’t a stretch of imagination to run his fingers down, still able to map out the curve of muscle and recall the stark lines of veins and old scars.  It’s easier in the darkness to trick the eyes, shadows falling from the shuttered window and playing illusions at the head of their bed.  He will not take it for weakness if they pretend for now. 

When Levi puts his lips to Erwin’s wrist, he knows Erwin will turn his palm to cup his cheek.  Closing his eyes, Levi tilts his head into it and doesn’t feel the usual calloused hand and warm skin, but he can remember it.

Erwin’s breathing slows to near silence, and Levi knows Erwin can recall every single detail as well. 

He opens his eyes to find Erwin watching him, not his arm, or empty space between them.  There is a exhausted look to Erwin’s expression, which is better than restless or pained.  He moves Erwin’s arm, seeing the residual limb and shoulder muscle follow the motion as if it was whole.   It’s a slow and careful process, but Erwin’s eyes are trained on him. 

The arm goes over Erwin’s stomach, out of the way so Levi can lie back down and press against him.  By now Erwin’s eyes are closed, chest rising up and down in measured, unhurried breaths.

In the morning, Levi’s fingers are still curled into a hold over empty space and air.


End file.
